


Homer Bedloe's Revenge

by MissFeral



Category: Petticoat Junction
Genre: Ants, Birthday Cake, Destroy Ending, Evil Wins, Gen, Revenge, Rope Bondage, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-17 22:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18974044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFeral/pseuds/MissFeral
Summary: Homer Bedloe has finally accepted the fact that he'll never be able to scrap the Cannonball, but he returns to the Shady Rest Hotel to inflict torment on everyone who has caused him trouble in the past.





	1. Chapter 1

Homer Bedloe smiled as he sat in the train, on his way to the Shady Rest Hotel. He had finally come to accept the fact that he would never be able to scrap the Hooterville Cannonball. Not ever. Not even in a million years. Though he had tried to put down the railroad service countless times, his attempts were futile. He now realized that. However, he still had a scheme or two up his sleeve.

Homer was on a mission to get revenge on all the people connected to the Cannonball. He wasn't going to physically harm them in anyway. No, that would not be necessary. Instead, he had a few different ideas that would be great fun. His face broke into a sinister grin as he tightly clutched the briefcase in his lap.

Charley and Floyd were going to be his first victims.

As Homer looked out the window at the passing trees, he waited for just the right time to act. He knew exactly where he was and just about how long it would be before the train arrived at the Hotel. He waited until they were about one mile away before he put his plan into action.

"Stop the train! Stop the train! Oh! I feel so nauseous! I think I'm going to be sick!" Homer shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth for volume.

Floyd hurried into the passenger car and frowned at Homer. "What are you hollering about, Mr. Bedloe?"

Homer pressed his hands against his tawny stomach and groaned loudly. "I feel a bad, bad case of train-sickness coming on…You better stop this train unless you want a mess to clean up!"

Floyd grimaced at the thought. "Okay, I'll tell Charley to stop but please, don't hurl on anything. Charley might start yelling and when he yells, it makes me nervous something terrible!"

With that, Floyd ran to tell Charley to stop the train.

Homer chuckled and opened his briefcase. He reached inside and carefully took out a small bottle of Chloroform. It had taken some time, but he had finally managed to purchase a bottle of the stuff. Then he poured some onto a cloth and waited for Floyd to come back.

Then the train came to a somewhat abrupt stop, causing him to sway slightly in his seat. He heard Floyd coming and he quickly hid the Chloroform-soaked cloth.

"We stopped the train. How do you feel now?" asked Floyd.

"Oh, a bit better. Thank you very much. By the way, would you come a little closer, please? I have, uh, something to tell you…"

"What is it, Mr. Bedloe?" Floyd inquired, curiously approaching Homer Bedloe. But the second he was within grabbing distance, Homer jumped out his seat and cupped the cloth over the conductor's nose and mouth.

Floyd struggled to get away and called to Charley for help, but his voice was muffled by the cloth. After a few seconds of inhaling the Chloroform, Floyd became unconscious and fell over across the seats.

Homer smirked as he looked down at the unconscious man. The Chloroform had worked.

Then Homer heard Charley coming, so he quickly hid the cloth behind his back.

"Floyd?! Where you at? Didn't you hear me call you?" Charley said, as he came in to look for the conductor. He was surprised to find Floyd's unconscious body slumped over on the seats. "Mr. Bedloe, what did you do to Floyd?"

"He's just taking a little nap," Homer replied, with his hands still behind his back.

Charley put a hand on his hip and frowned. "Well, I can't have a sleeping conductor at this time of day! He's gonna have to wake up!" Then he began to shake Floyd in an attempt to wake him.

Homer pursed his lips and strolled up casually behind Charley's back. He crept up close to him with skilled sneakiness. Then he cupped the cloth over Charley's nose and mouth, holding it there until it took effect.

Muffing loudly, Charley grabbed Homer's arm and tried to push the cloth away. But by the time he got the cloth off, it was too late. Charley swooned and fell down to the floor, not too far away from Floyd.

Homer grinned nastily in success. Both the conductor and the fat engineer were now unconscious and ready to be tied up.

When Charley and Floyd woke up, they found themselves in a strange predicament. They were sitting side by side, their bottoms on the floor, their legs stretched out in front of them. Both men had been tied up with strong ropes at their hands and ankles. They could barely move an inch.

"Oh, how nice! You're both awake," said Homer Bedloe as he walked over to the two men and knelt down by their feet. "I have a feeling we're all going to have a lot of laughs!"

"What's going on, Mr. Bedloe?" Floyd asked, nervously. "Why are me and Charley tied up?"

"Floyd, let me handle this," Charley said, calmly. "Now look, Mr. Bedloe…I don't know what kind of game you're playing with us, but I think you'd better untie us right now! If you do that, then there won't be any hard feelings. Okay?"

"All in due time, gentlemen," said Homer with a dark chuckle. Then he removed Charley's and Floyd's shoes and socks. He smiled as he watched their bare toes wiggle.

"Just what are you planning to do to us?" asked Charley.

Homer opened up his briefcase and took out a long, white feather.

"So, are you gentlemen ticklish?" asked Homer, waving the feather around in the air.

Charley gulped. "Now wait a minute, Mr. Bedloe. This really isn't necessary."

Homer chuckled with glee at Charley's terrified expression. Then he turned to Floyd who was equally as scared.

"Please Mr. Bedloe! Leave our feet alone!" said Floyd, meekly.

"Sorry, but that's not an option," Homer said, shaking his head. "You people have gotten in my way too many times. All I wanted was to rid of this train. But…since I can't do that, THIS is the next best thing!"

Then Homer Bedloe positioned himself at Floyd's bare feet. He began gliding the feather slowly up and down the conductor's foot.

Floyd instantly burst into laughter.

"AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOOP! NO FAIR HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I CAN'T STAND TICKLING! PLEEEASE! OOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! NOOO MORE! HAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE!" Floyd shrieked.

Homer let the feather glide along both of Floyd's feet, from his heels up to his toes. When he reached the toes, Homer tickled each one of them. Floyd screamed with laughter.

Charley watched in horror as his friend was tortured. It soon got so bad that Charley cringed and had to look away.

"Ooh, I can see somebody is having a lot of fun!" Homer couldn't help but tease Floyd. "It tickles, doesn't it? Yes, it does!"

"MR. BEDLOE, PLEASE! HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

But Homer continued tickling relentlessly for fifteen minutes. Floyd squirmed and bucked violently, his laughter becoming high-pitched and somewhat annoying. But Homer still took pleasure in hearing it, as he probed the feather between the conductor's toes. After what seemed like hours, Homer stopped the torment and gave Floyd a chance to catch his breath and calm down.

"You'll never get away with this, Bedloe!" said Charley.

Homer Bedloe looked at Charley and smirked. "Oh, but I will. And not only that but I think  _you_  need a change of attitude!" Then Homer began tickling Charley's feet with the feather. "Coochie coochie coo!"

Charley squealed and shrieked like a little girl when his feet were tickled.

"NOOOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH MY GOSH! PLEASE STOP! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Charley howled with laughter. It was his turn to get tickled now.

Homer had never realized how much fun it was to tickle somebody until now. It was especially fun when it was two sissies like Charley and Floyd! He grinned evilly as he brushed the soft feather on Charley's toes and tickled the undersides of them. Next, he let the feather slide down to the balls of his feet, then to his arches.

When his arches were tickled, Charley screamed and laughed even harder than before. This was his most ticklish spot.

"AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THERE! PLEASE HAVE MERCY! OOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHO! IT TICKLES!" Charley shrieked as his face turned red and his eyes began to water.

"Nobody is going to come save you," Homer gloated, cruelly. "There's nobody around for a least a mile. I have your tootsies all to myself for as long as I want! Tickle tickle tickle!"

This continued for another fifteen minutes before Homer stopped to give Charley a breather. But still, he was nowhere close to being done.

"N-No more…please…No more," Charley begged, gasping for breath.

"Kate will be wondering where we are," Floyd added, hoping this bit of information would convince Homer to end the torment.

"Kate? Oh yes! Kate Bradley!" Homer chuckled. "Well, I'm afraid Kate Bradley is going to have to wait. The Cannonball is going to be  _much_  later than usual today."

"Let us go, Mr. Bedloe!" Floyd pleaded, looking as if he was going to cry.

"Not possible, I've only just begun," Homer Bedloe explained. Then he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a second feather. Now he had two feathers so that he could tickle both their feet at the same time.

Poor Charley and Floyd felt their hearts sink as they knew their fate was sealed.

Within seconds, the train was filled with laughter again. Homer Bedloe couldn't stop grinning as he used one feather on Charley and the other one on Floyd. The feathers glided between their toes, on their heels, and along their insteps. Not one inch of their adorable, naked feet was left untouched by the dreadful feather.

Homer discovered that both men were most ticklish on the arches of their feet. So he spent most of his time there, torturing the tender flesh without relent. But no matter where the feather traveled, Charley and Floyd would laugh hysterically and beg for mercy. Their sides and ribs began to ache from laughing so hard. Their faces hurt too. They struggled violently in their bonds but there was no escape or relief from the ticklish agony.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEEASE SOMEBODY HELP US!" wailed Charley, tears flowing down his fat face.

"WE'LL BE GOOD, MR. BEDLOE! EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE! I PROMISE! JUST STOOOOOP! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" shrieked Floyd, damp in a light sweat.

Homer tickled their bare feet for a whole hour. By the time he stopped, both men were whimpering and gasping frantically for air.

"Why…Why are you doing this!?" Floyd demanded, through his gasps.

"I already told you why," Homer replied, cheerily. "Now, are we ready for more tickles?"

"My feet can't stand it anymore!" sobbed Charley.

Homer chuckled at him. "Aww, what's the matter? Is this too much for you?" he asked in a babying tone.

"Please don't tickle us anymore!" Floyd begged. "We'll do anything."

But Homer just shook his head. "Too late for that. Anyway, the break's over. Get ready to laugh your heads off again!"

This time, Homer tickled their feet with his fingers. He lightly scratched the heels, arches, and balls of their feet. He wiggled his fingers under and between their toes. Then he would go back and scribble his fingers on their arches again. He didn't stop for a second.

Charley and Floyd were shrieking and convulsing with laughter. The unlucky men were too weak to beg anymore. They threw back their heads and laughed harder and louder than ever before in their lives. Their legs shivering, their toes wiggling.

After another whole hour of merciless tickling, the two men fainted from pure exhaustion.

Homer Bedloe stood up and gazed down at them – their skin was soaked with sweat and tears were running from their puffy eyes. Then he untied both of them and left them to rest.

With a happy sigh, Homer packed up his briefcase and walked off the train. He started walking in the direction of the Shady Rest Hotel. It would be a mile hike without the use of the train, but it was well worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

Kate Bradley was working at the front desk when the three girls ran by and headed towards the door. But Billie Jo stopped and went to talk to her mother.

"Mom, can I buy a bathing suit?"

"You already have a bathing suit, don't you?" Kate replied, without looking up at her.

Billie Jo sighed. "Yes, but I'd like to have a new one."

Then Uncle Joe waddled into the lobby to see what the conversation was about.

"There's nothing wrong with the one you have now," Kate explained to her oldest daughter.

"But I saw the cutest suit the other day. It comes in two parts."

Kate looked up and widened her eyes. "You mean it's a bikini?"

"Uh-huh," Billie Jo nodded.

Kate shook her head. "Forget it."

"But Mom, things are different now than they were when you were a kid."

"I'm sorry, but showing female bellybuttons in public is a big no-no," Kate said.

"Oh Mom," Billie Jo moaned.

"You heard your mother. Now scram!" Uncle Joe said, nodding his head toward the door.

The blonde girl rolled her big eyes and walked out of the Hotel.

Uncle Joe cracked a cynical smile as he watched her go. "I'm glad you were firm with her, Kate. Can you imagine that? She wants to show her navel in public. Next thing you know, she'll want to get it pierced!"

Kate winced at the thought.

Uncle Joe continued talking. "Ya know, back in my day the women dressed sensibly when they went swimming. They wore suits that covered every inch of skin that wasn't fit to see."

"Well, maybe I'm being old-fashioned but I still think I'm doing the right thing," Kate said.

"I think so," Uncle Joe quipped.

Yes, but you're an old man," Kate whispered amusingly to herself.

"I heard that, Kate!"

Kate covered her mouth to keep from laughing and gave him a playful poke in the stomach.

"Eeep! Don't do that!" Uncle Joe said, rubbing the ticklish spot on his belly that she had poked.

"And why not?" Kate asked, jokingly. She reached out and pinched him in the ribs, earning a yelp and a jump from him.

"Now cut that out!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry," Kate said, chuckling to herself.

Suddenly, Homer Bedloe walked into the Hotel, strolled up to the front desk and punched the service bell.  _Ding!_

"Mr. Bedloe, you should have let us know you were coming!" Kate said in surprise. "That way, we could have prepared."

Uncle Joe agreed. "Yeah, like when we prepare for a tornado, or a hurricane, or an earthquake, or a really big…"

"Uncle Joe, please." Kate held up a hand to shush him. Then she turned back to face Homer. "What brings you here, Mr. Bedloe?"

"I wanted to pay you a visit. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

But Kate wasn't buying it. "What scheme have you cooked up this time?"

"Mrs. Bradley, the only thing I cooked up today was my breakfast. Now if you'll be so kind as to hand over my key."

Kate gave him a skeptical look as she gave him the key to his room.

"How long are you staying?" Uncle Joe asked him.

"Oh, just a few days…or maybe a week."

"Well, make it a few days," Uncle Joe sneered.

"I shall stay as long as I like!" Homer retorted, cockily. With that, he picked up his briefcase and started walking up the stairs.

Kate rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh, what a day! First it was Billie Jo and her bikini and now it's Homer Bedloe and his who-knows-what!"

Homer stopped in the middle of the stairs. "What was that, Mrs. Bradley?"

"Hmm?" She glanced over at him.

"You said something about your daughter and a bikini?"

"Oh. Well, yes. She wanted to get one but I put my foot down."

"So…you  _really_  don't want her to have one, do you?" Homer asked, coolly.

Kate nodded.

"You really laid down the law, eh?"

"Hey, it's none of your affair, Mr. Bedloe," Uncle Joe cut in. "Now go to your room."

Homer smirked devilishly and came back downstairs. "I'll go to my room but I have an errand to run first."


	3. Chapter 3

Later that day, Kate was busy cooking dinner in the kitchen while Uncle Joe was reclining in one of the chairs. The dog was resting comfortably on the floor beside the stove. They hadn't seen much of Homer Bedloe since he arrived at the Hotel earlier that afternoon. He had left the Hotel to go on a mysterious errand – and he returned with wrapped box under his arm. Kate was curious about what he was up to.

Suddenly, Billie Jo came into the kitchen looking excited but a little nervous. She was wearing a long coat. "Mom?"

"What is it, Billie Jo?" Kate asked as she moved over to the stove and peeked into a pot.

"I have something to show you."

Kate turned around to face her daughter. "Yes?"

Then Billie Jo dropped her coat to the floor, revealing a body clad in a skimpy, pink bikini. Her long, smooth legs and flat, pale belly were in plain sight.

Kate was stupefied.

"Well, what do you think?" Billie Jo asked. "Isn't it wild?"

"I thought I told you not to buy a bikini."

"I didn't. It was given to me as a gift," the girl explained.

"A gift from who?"

"Mr. Bedloe."

Kate narrowed her eyes. "Come again?"

"I know. I'm just as surprised as you are! Well anyway, I think it'll attract a lot of boys, don't you?" With that, Billie Jo picked up her coat and fled the kitchen.

Kate folded her arms and looked at Uncle Joe with flames in her eyes. "Mr. Bedloe knew good and well that I didn't want her to have a bikini! I'm going up to his room and give him a piece of my mind!"

"No wait, Kate!" Uncle Joe stood up and grabbed her arm. "Can't you see what Bedloe is doing? He just wants to spite you. That's the only reason he bought Billie Jo a bikini."

Kate thought this over for a moment. "Well…whatever he's doing, it's working."

"But you have to remember…This is Homer Bedloe we're talking about. You can't let him get to you, Kate."

"I guess you're right," Kate said with a sigh.

At the table that night, everyone ate their dinner quietly. Kate kept a close eye on Homer Bedloe as he was eating. One strange thing was that Homer kept smirking at her. Whenever Homer Bedloe smiled, it was never a good sign. But it wasn't so bad because right now Kate had other matters on her mind. It was Uncle Joe's Birthday tomorrow and Kate was planning to surprise him with a cake.

Kate waited until her uncle was asleep before she started getting things ready. While the oven was heating, she prepared a big bowl of rich batter. The girls giggled excitedly as they helped make the sweet, creamy icing for the cake.

Little did they know that Homer Bedloe was spying on them. When he saw that they were making a Birthday cake, he got a wicked idea.  _So they want to surprise their Uncle Joe with a cake, do they? Well, he's not the only one who's going to get a surprise!_

When the cake was finished baking, Kate set it on the counter to cool. Then she took a spatula and spread on the thick, white icing with a professional touch.

"Mmm…that looks so good, Mom. I can't wait for Uncle Joe to see it!" said Betty Jo as she watched her mom apply the icing.

Kate smiled. "We'll put it in the refrigerator until tomorrow."

"You should hide it behind something so Uncle Joe won't find it if he comes down for a snack," Bobby Jo suggested, helpfully.

"Good thinking," Kate said, carefully bringing the cake to the refrigerator. She set the plate in the back of the fridge and nodded her head in satisfaction.

Then Kate and the girls went to bed without a worry.

Homer Bedloe waited until the women went to bed, then he put his plan into action. He went to his room, opened up his briefcase, and took out a container of ants.

He chuckled to himself. "You know, if I wasn't who I was, I might feel pretty bad about what I'm about to do," he told the ants.

Then he snuck downstairs and into the dark kitchen with the container in his hand. He took the cake out of the refrigerator and poured the ants all over it. Then Homer put the ant-infested cake back into the refrigerator and went upstairs. All during the night, the tiny, black insects had a feast.


	4. Chapter 4

On the morning of Uncle Joe's Birthday, all the Bradley women were working in the kitchen to get things ready. Homer Bedloe made sure he got up extra early so he wouldn't miss out on the cake surprise. He said good morning to everyone and sat down to wait for breakfast.

"Bobby Jo, get the cake out," Kate said as she set the table.

"Yes, ma'am," the brunette replied, strolling over to the cupboard. She reached inside and took out the cake. Then she shrieked in horror and dropped it on the floor.

Kate whirled around. "What's the matter with you?"

Bobby Jo pointed to the cake. "Ants!"

Kate leaned over and looked closely at the cake on the floor. Sure enough, there were tiny ants scurrying over every inch of icing and cake.

"Oh dear," Kate said, feeling faint.

Uncle Joe ran into the room. "What's all the yelling about? Did somebody get hurt?" Then he looked down and saw the mess on the floor.

"That was supposed to be your Birthday cake," Kate said, sadly. "But the ants got to it. I'm sorry, Uncle Joe."

"Well…don't be upset, Kate. It's the thought that counts."

Homer Bedloe had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Everything was going according to plan. He couldn't believe his good luck.

"I'll get the mop," said Betty Jo.

Uncle Joe just looked down at the ruined cake and scratched his head. "How do you suppose the ants got in there anyway?"

"I don't know, but they did apparently," said Homer Bedloe.

"Hey, do you know anything about this, Mr. Bedloe?" Uncle Joe wondered.

"Me? Why would I?"

"Hm. I dunno. But we're watching you," Uncle Joe said, squinting his eyes in a suspicious way.

Homer scoffed.

_They still think I'm after the Cannonball. They think they're so smart. They can keep their stupid little train for all I care. No permanent damage has been done. I haven't hurt anybody. I'm having my fun and I'll be on my way soon._

Homer Bedloe went over the events of the previous days in his head. He was having quite a good time doing bad things to the enemy. He was a mean man and proud of it. But days were passing by and pretty soon it had been a whole week. Tomorrow he would have to get back on the train and go home. But he still had some time left – and hardly a minute went by where he wasn't thinking, plotting, or scheming. He wandered out onto the porch that night and privately congratulated himself for being…well, himself.

The End


End file.
